


Not Quite According to Plan

by wookiekisses



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And since I haven't gotten to their next interaction, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evie gets super angry, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Here's some nice AU to hold me over, Hurt/Comfort, I don't want to spoil it for myself by looking online, Possible canon divergence anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookiekisses/pseuds/wookiekisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll see you back at the train Mr. Green."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a work of my own imagination considering I haven't reached the next Evie/Henry interaction yet. Also, if you haven't guessed it, this contains major spoilers for the Change of Plans mission in Sequence 7 of Assassin's Creed: Syndicate. You have been warned. The first bit contains dialogue directly from the game; I obviously didn't write that. I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of the characters, I'm just doing this for fun, blah blah blah readers know the drill I just don't want ubisoft to own me more than they already do.

"Get Miss Nightingale to look at that. I must find the vault before Starrick secures the shroud." The lump on Henry's head was turning Evie's stomach; he wasn't supposed to have gotten hurt on this mission, and now she had to deal with the emotional turmoil of that in combination with the endless frustration of having yet another mission go so horribly awry.  _Emotion must never interfere with the mission_ she chastised herself.

"We'll talk to the Maharajah again," Henry replied, ignoring her comment on his injury. Her anger took another leap. 

"I will talk to the Maharajah, you will get your head looked at," Evie countered, her agitation written in her features as she gestured impatiently at Henry.  _If he keeps arguing with me_ , she thought,  _I'm going to bloody well give him another bump to get looked at._

"I'm sorry my capture has undone your plans." Evie turned to look at Henry, and his arms were spread out in a blatant display of annoyance. Evie almost wanted to take back her words, concern hidden by her harsh tone, but she couldn't. The mission came first, and she couldn't concentrate on the mission if she was busy worrying about Henry getting hurt again.  _God, why does he even continue to do work for the Brotherhood if he's only going to get himself killed?_

"You'd be safer on the train," she snapped, turning away from him so that he could not see the dampness clinging to the corners of her eyes. Evie was not an emotional woman, not by a long shot, but the combined weight of the entire night was starting to press all of the right buttons to send her into a sobbing rage. 

"Even if you find the vault, you can't just walk into Buckingham Palace alone!" Henry argued. Evie spun on her heels and looked at him in disbelief. Why was he arguing with her on this? 

"I won't be alone!" her voice cracked through the alleyway, almost disturbing the two lovers necking behind her. "I'll see you back at the train Mr. Green," she said, much more softly. Her eyebrows dipped just enough that for a split second Henry could see her inner turmoil, but the moment of vulnerability was gone as soon as Evie ran off (or was it away) to her next target. 

\-------

Her search that night was fruitless, but Evie didn't return to the train until the sun was starting to break above the horizon, lighting the smog filled skies of London in shades of pink and purple. Her eyes were burning and she knew her movements were sluggish as she tromped off towards the tracks she knew that the train would be on next. Her rage had settled into a dull simmer low in her gut, and now guilt and anxiety were starting to creep in on her. Evie was momentarily taken by surprise when a few Blighters approached her, shouting insults and drawing their knives as she rounded the corner. She let out a huff and smirked a bit.  _Finally, some stress relief._

Evie leapt at them, immediately taking two of the five down. She almost relished the gurgle of blood clogging their throats and she spun gracefully around to face the other three. They were faceless, nameless, just like all of her other opponents, and she let herself sink into the almost mindless trance that a fight seemed to put her in. Her blades glinted in the early sun, metal stained with blood and crafted into a wicked, life ending point. One of the Blighters looked panicked, but Evie took pity on him and slashed his throat in one easy movement. Blood spurted across her face and she let it stick to her skin in hot little droplets, feeling every bit the deranged maniac she must've appeared to have been in that moment. Her breath was crushed out of her by a hard fist to the gut and she doubled over, gasping for air. The Blighters still standing took the opportunity to pounce, blades slashing through carefully tailored cloth and leather to rip her delicate skin open. 

She hissed as she stumbled backward, falling into a defensive stance with her kukri in front of her. She had come to rather like the initially unfamiliar blade, and had continually upgraded her knife as newer, stronger ones made their way into London and inevitably into the black market where she purchased most of her weapons. She thought of the day that Mr. Green had given both her and Jacob their first kukris, "Assassin Christmas" Jacob had called it, and Evie's heart ached in time with her cuts and bruises. She needed to make amends with him, if only to save their friendship and alliance if not the feelings she had come to accept she was harbouring for the man. It was that thought that propelled her forward, and she dispatched the remaining Blighters with haste. A few people had noticed the fight, weary workers on their way to the various factories across the borough, and a woman screamed as blood started to litter the street. 

"Hell," Evie breathed, pointing her rope launcher at the nearest building. She flew upward, wind whipping her hair out of her face and waking her up just enough to get her safely home, and started to leap across rooftops until she reached the tracks. 

\-------

Evie's car smelled sweet, something unfamiliar clinging to the air as she limped towards her washing basin, eager to scrub the blood off of her face and clean her wounds. The scent was distracting though, and she eventually looked around to try and find the source of it. Sitting on the corner table was a sprig of purple hyacinths. Dropping her rag into the basin with a wet plop, Evie crossed the short distance to the table and picked up the flowers. The stem felt delicate in her hand, so easily broken, and she sighed. 

"They're symbolic of apology," Henry murmured from the doorway. Evie spun around, eyes wide in surprise, and nodded a bit stiffly.

"I...I know," she stammered, looking between the flowers and him. "But it's not you who should be apologizing." 

"I ruined your mission," Henry said, stepping into the car. Evie shook her head and walked over to him, plucking a few of the flowers off of the stem to tuck into the folds of his jacket. 

"No, you didn't. I'm sorry that I lost my temper. I was admittedly frustrated that I couldn't find the plans, but I was honestly more frightened for you than anything else. I tend to lash out when things scare me," Evie explained, her hands smoothing out the fabric of Henry's jacket unconsciously. She caught herself once she realized how warm he was, and her hands dropped to her sides as a blush painted the arches of her cheekbones. 

"Is that why you were so insistent on me returning to the train?" Henry asked, his mouth running a bit dry. Evie's hands had felt so small against him, but they were warm and strong and he wanted nothing more than to catch them in his own and trace her callouses with his thumb until he knew every inch of her dainty, deadly hands. 

"Yes," Evie sighed, sinking into her armchair. She let her eyes fall shut as her head tipped back against the plush upholstery. "Normally Jacob is the one on the receiving end of my rather unique brand of worry. I should have warned you," she chuckled, eyes cracking open just a sliver. Henry leaned against the side of the chair and watched her for a moment. She was drifting in and out of consciousness with every gentle sway of the train and he grimaced at the shadows forming beneath her eyes. The pressure on both her and her brother was immense; no other assistance had come from the Brotherhood yet, and things were getting more and more heated by the day. Not for the first time, Henry found himself wishing he was better suited for combat. 

"I can hear you brooding," Evie grumbled, her eyes still shut. That startled a small laugh from Henry and without thinking he pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. 

"I'm not brooding, only wishing I could be of more help to you and Jacob," he said. It was then that he noticed the wounds on Evie's arm, deep cuts carved into her bicep by a clever blade. He immediately sought out the medical kit she had and picked up the scissors. 

"What're youdoing?" she slurred, obviously incapable of staying awake much longer. 

"Your wounds need to be dressed and you don't look to be in any state to do it yourself," Henry explained. "I would apologize for this, but the jacket is already ruined," he added, and with that he cut the sleeve off at the shoulder and gently unbuckled her gauntlet. The weapon fell to the floor with a heavy clunk, but he knew it was designed to take much more than that so he concerned himself with sliding the sleeve off of Evie's arm. 

"Mmkay," Evie sighed, almost curling into the chair like a cat. She looked far younger when she was like this, Henry thought. Sleepy and innocent. It was a nice look, even if it was strange on such a wonderfully dangerous woman like her. 

"This will sting a bit," he said once he had some cotton soaked in disinfectant. He swiped it over her arm and she let out a grunt, eyes flying open immediately at the contact. "Sorry, sorry," Henry breathed, checking the wounds for dirt or cloth. Satisfied that they were clean, he laid fresh gauze over top of them and wrapped a bandage around her arm, tying it just tight enough that it would stay on without causing discomfort. 

"Thank you," Evie breathed. It was the first time in years that someone had dressed her wounds for her, at least the wounds she could still reach herself, and it was far different than when Jacob did it. Jacob was all gruff voice, rough hands, and snarky commentary. Henry was gentle, handling her as if she were something delicate, something to be protected or cared for. While she knew that she didn't need someone to care for her, it still felt nice knowing that someone was willing to. She reached out and cupped his cheek in her hand, smiling softly at him when his expression changed from concerned to bewildered. "I'm glad that you got your head looked at. I'd recognize Miss Nightingale's handiwork anywhere," she said, eyes flickering to the admittedly far neater bandage on his head. 

"She said to send you her regards," Henry murmured, not wanting to speak to loudly in the fear that he would knock her hand from his face. He leaned into the touch; in their line of work, gentle touches were something to be cherished simply because they were so rare. 

"I'm sure she did," Evie laughed. Their eyes locked and the tension between them shattered. They both dissolved into laughter, Evie eventually sliding from her chair onto the floor, clutching her ribs as tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. Henry was likewise incapable of staying upright, and he tipped over sideways, falling onto his side and catching himself just in time to avoid slamming his head into the ground again. When their laughter settled into a breathless sort of silence, he looked over at her. They were sprawled out in opposite directions, their heads parallel, but Evie was perched up on her elbows. Henry rolled onto his back and looked up at her, grinning. Something warm had settled in his chest; contentment? Safety? He knew the feeling, and it was both of those, but more. It was the most dangerous yet powerful feeling in the world for an assassin, and it had snuck up on him with all of the silence and power that Evie utilized when sneaking up on her targets. It had taken him down in this moment just as efficiently as Evie had taken down countless men and women since arriving in London. He swallowed thickly, gaze catching on Evie's soft, shapely lips before flickering up towards her eyes. The corners of them were crinkled with the force of her smile, and Henry let out a shuddery breath. Before he could even process it, Evie was dragging herself forward, looming over him upside down. She was on her hands now, and there was mischief written across her face. 

"You're blushing Mr. Green," she murmured, searching his face. She could see the way his pulse was racing in his neck, had caught the almost fearful gulp he had taken, had heard the shake in his released breaths. The feeling that had forced her to worry so fiercely about him was present in his dark eyes, and she knew that it was for that reason that his cheeks were several shades darker than they normally were. 

"I am not," he countered, somehow managing to look both embarrassed and indignant. Evie laughed again, tilting her head down just a bit. 

"Yes you are," she replied, and she ducked down to press her lips to his. It was clumsy and awkward, as all first kisses were, and that was not aided by the fact that they she was essentially upside down and on a train. But it was also wonderful. The momentary hesitation, surprise she presumed, and then the returned pressure of chapped lips. The train hit a curve and sent Evie sprawling, and Henry had to let out a breathless laugh. Evie's own blush grew and she managed to get herself upright, her legs folded under her as she knelt on the floor and put an arm on her bed to steady herself. Henry moved so that he was mirroring her position and he reached out to take her other hand in his own. 

"Let's try that again, shall we Miss Frye?" he murmured, eyes warm and calm. 

"Yes, definitely," Evie breathed, and she closed the gap between them once more, catching Henry's lips in her own. The world seemed to fall away around her until all she could smell was hyacinths, and the feeling of Henry delicately pressing his lips to hers over and over again was the only thing she could really process. 

\-------

Jacob had heard the thump from Evie's car and frowned. He hadn't even realized that she had come aboard. He jumped the gaps between the cars separating them and froze in the doorway to her car. Henry was holding her face in his hands, thumbs smoothing over her freckles, and Evie's hands were tangled in his shirt. From what he could see the kiss was chaste, but he still grimaced at the sight of his sister kissing somebody. 

"Finally," he muttered however, knowing full well that this had been several months in the making. He'd come back in a few minutes, decidedly louder in his approach since he had to act the brother and preserve whatever shreds of innocence his viper of a sister still possessed. He wasn't overly concerned though. Henry was a decent man despite the fact that his mouth was on Evie's at the moment, and he would treat Evie right. He was holding Evie's face between his hands like it was his whole world, hands that had been trained to kill showing nothing but love and patience, and Jacob sighed. 

He'd still have to have a nice long chat with Mr. Green, preferably on Westminster Bridge with him dangling precariously over the water. The fall into the river wouldn't hurt him. Much. 

**Author's Note:**

> so uh. that was pretty much fluffy crack. iunno. brain bunnies strike at 1 am and I am a slave to their whims. also, I tried to balance Jacob and Evie's uh...interesting lifestyle...with the more conservative social constructs at the time which is why Jacob mentions Evie's innocence (or lack thereof. C'mon Jacob, Evie kills people for a living). 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


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